Through the Door
by deleria
Summary: A brief Meryl & Vash moment from the Live Through episode. MxV
1. Meryl

I do not own Trigun, I do not own Meryl, and I do not own Vash. Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours own the copyright to Trigun and all the various characters therein. 

This fic was inspired by one quick scene in the Live Through episode. This is my fic so please don't steal it or archive it or anything like that without my permission. Comments and criticisms are welcome.

* * *

**Through the Door**

~Meryl~

* * *

Relief passes through me the moment I lean my back against the door. Relief that I was able to avoid talking to him about what happened. Instantly upon that realization, an angry wave of shame and self-loathing washes over me. The muffled sounds of his tortured sobs only serve amplify the effect. 

I bite my lower lip painfully. The sound makes my very soul hurt.

I have never hated myself more than I do right now.

For the last week, I've played out this scene in my mind. All I could think about how I should handle the delicate subject of Legato's death. In my mind's eye, I saw myself reassuring him, comforting him, supporting him... and yet when the moments came and I saw the look in his eyes... heard the sound of his voice...

I panicked. 

Me! Meryl Stryfe of the Bernardelli Insurance Society, _panicking._ A specialist in high-risk claims and high-priced disasters is running from the one person who needs me the most. 

Amazing.

I feel my knees weaken as my heart breaks. How can I be so cruel? What kind of coward am I? 

I hate this. 

This isn't me. I _don't_ run. The very reason I have this assignment is _because_ I don't run. 

Mr. Bernardelli first approached me about this assignment. Looking back on it now, I can see why. He knew I wouldn't turn him down. He also knew that Milly would follow my lead. He flattered the two of us by telling us that we were _"the only pair with the right qualifications and gumption necessary to get the job done."_

I remember being so flattered I blushed. When I finally agreed to do the job, he later joked that we were the only ones who didn't panic at the mere suggestion of meeting the infamous Humanoid Typhoon. In fact, he told us we were the only ones even remotely willing to do the assignment.

I was so naive that I took that as yet another compliment. I think I even laughed at his comments.

I admit, I was very excited about the idea of meeting the legendary outlaw. I spent hours studying his federal crime reports. I logged long hours in the office reading all of the eyewitness reports and insurance claims we had on file about him. By the time I felt ready to meet the subject, I fabricated a detailed mental image and personality of a man I had never met. A mental image that later turned out to be a complete farce. 

Vash is nothing like the world perceives him to be. 

When our co-workers at the home office found out that our assignment was to find Vash the Stampede and to keep him under twenty-four-hour surveillance, all of them, in one way or another offered up some sort of condolence to us. I didn't think much of it at the time. I just thought they were trying to be sympathetic to the fact that we would be gone for a long time. The day before we were scheduled to leave one of my co-workers asked me if we had all of our "affairs in order." 

It was then that it really truly hit me. Milly and I were going to be walking into the lion's den. No one expected us to return to the home office. No one expected us to survive Vash the Stampede. We were fated to be one of his countless victims never to be seen or heard from again.

No one expected us to ever return to the home office; no one expected us to survive Vash the Stampede. We were fated to be one of his countless victims never to be seen or heard from again.

Before I left work that day, I took Milly aside and told her that if she had any reservations about going it still wasn't too late to back out. I know she saw my worry, but she didn't let on. Instead, she looked at me with that determined expression and told me without any hesitation at all, "If _you_ are going, _I_ am going Senpai!"

The forcefulness of her reply startled me and I left work in a daze, uncertain about what to do or how to feel. All I could think about was how everyone at work seemed to regard our assignment as a death sentence. The notion of making contact with Vash the Stampede didn't frighten me, it was the behavior of my co-workers... my _friends,_ which scared me. It was like attending your own funeral.

I certainly didn't sleep very well that night. I've never quit anything before in my life and I've always taken pride in that. 

"A job is a job," my father always told me. "Your word is your bond." 

Well, I had giving my word. I agreed to do the assignment and now I was bound to it. Except this time was different. This that my partner and I would be in a position where everyone _expected_ us to die. 

What would my father say to that?

That very question is laughable. I _know_ what my father would say. 

"Your word is your bond." 

I struggled with that all night. I realized sometime just before dawn that it would be a far worse thing for us to quit before we even had a chance to try.

Five frustrating months later, we made contact with the broom-headed-donut-eating spaz. We befriended him and have been persistently following him ever since.

Except now. Now I am hiding from him.

Some friend I am.

Admittedly, I have never been very good with emotion. It wasn't until the fifth moon incident that I really accepted the fact that I was falling in love with him. Even then I struggled with that realization. 

I've never been in love like this before. The strength of the emotion is frightening and wonderful at the same time. I constantly feel a mishmash of sentiment toward Vash that ranges from intense love and joy to absolute frustration and hopelessness. I think I could easily die of worry when it comes to Vash. 

I really thought I _would_ die of worry after what happened in the city of August.

The two years I spent not knowing if he were alive or dead was agonizing. Regardless of that agony, I just could not bring myself to leave everything to find him. I certainly thought about it on a daily basis, fantasized about it, effectively torturing myself... but the very idea of finding him was what kept me from looking for him. 

What if I found him and he did not want to be found? 

What if he rejected me and I lost what little of a personal relationship I had with him? 

What if he really hated me and saw me as a nuisance? 

Worse yet, what if he really was dead? 

In the end, it was just easier not knowing. I simply wasn't ready to deal with the worse case scenario. 

I was a coward. 

Not going after him was yet another life decision that I will always regret. To this day my inaction shames me. The day we were sent back to find him was probably the happiest day of my life.

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as I try in vain to stop the tears. My shame is choking me, threatening to drown my in regret as I reminisce. I am a weak hearted fool when it comes to Vash and my feelings; I know I am. He is sobbing not two yarz from where I stand with only a door between us and yet I continue to stand here, immobile.

I suck in a deep breath and try to calm myself. One too many regrets, one too many lost moments. I can't do this anymore. I cannot run from him and my feelings. 

I can't do that to him. 

It's my fault he was in that position with Legato to begin with. I should have known better. I shouldn't have followed him. I should have trusted him.

_I_ am ultimately the source of his pain. _I_ am the one making him cry.

Wiping the tears from my cheeks and pushing my hair from my face, I straighten myself and turn around to face the door between us. I cannot continue to hurt him by acting like this. I can't leave him alone. 

I stare at the door determinedly and a flutter moves through me as I realize what I am about to do. He might reject me, but I have to at least _try_ to reach out to him. I owe him. I love him. I cannot turn my back on him. I won't. I will regret it for the rest of my life if I do. 

I agreed to follow him wherever he goes on this barren planet as part of a job, but now I am following him simply because I love him. I let him go once, I won't do it again. I will follow him into the dark place he is right now and I will find a way to lead him out, somehow. I have to try. It is the least I can do. It is all I want to do.

Without another thought I push open the door between us.


	2. Vash

Once again, I do not own Trigun, I do not own Meryl, and I do not own Vash. Yasuhiro Nightow and Young King Ours own the copyright to Trigun and all the various characters therein. 

This fic was inspired by one quick scene in the Live Through episode. This is part two, which focuses on Vash. Anyway, this is my fic so please don't steal it or archive it or anything like that without my permission. Comments and criticisms are welcome.

* * *

**Through the Door**

~Vash~

* * *

She smiles at me nervously and quickly looks away, busing herself with making me something to eat. Pushing an errant lock of dark hair off her brow, she tells me what has happened in the last ten days while I was unconscious. Part of me is thankful for her care while another part of me protests her concern. 

I do not deserve it.

A steaming bowl of soup is set down in front of me and she tells me to eat it all. I feel like a child with the way in which she hovers over me. I study her face for a moment, allowing my eyes to wander and search for something I cannot identify. She makes eye contact with me and offers a weak smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. 

I can't help but to wonder what she's thinking. 

She seems to be anxious about something, uncertain. I try my best to comply with her wishes. It's difficult to maintain an outward calm while a storm of grief rages within my heart. I know she notices, but she says nothing. The silence is condemning and my stomach suddenly churns, causing the brooding guilt within me surges forth. The sight and smell of food makes me suddenly nauseous.

I _killed_ him. I killed Legato. 

Still, she stands next to me, watching me, waiting. From the corner of my eye I think I see her tremble. I feel the urge to talk to her, to make amends, to apologize, to tell her to leave this place, to leave me and never come back before she and her partner die, too. As I try to get the words out something in her eyes change and she quickly rushes out of the room, mumbling a need to be somewhere else.

I hear the click of the door close between us. For what feels like an eternity I sit there in a daze before I realize that she has done the right thing. I hate it, but she did the right thing.

Everything I touch dies. The city of August. Brad. Wolfwood. 

I destroy everything.

I curl up into myself and press the palms of my hands to my eyes as my grief overwhelms me. My whole body shakes from the release and I gasp for air between wailing sobs. Even the act of crying does little to relieve the pressure built up in my heart and I am ashamed that all I can do anymore is cry. My tears change nothing. They won't wash my mistakes and sins.

I have lost everything. I am alone. I will _always_ be alone. 

I used to be afraid of being by myself. For almost as long as I can remember, I have always been somewhat uncomfortable in my own skin. Even now, after everything that has happened because of me, I am ashamed of the fact that I am still afraid of being alone. 

How selfish.

People's lives are destroyed because of me. I have tried to live my life in a way that would honor Rem, that would make her proud. Yet, I cannot. Everything I touch, everything I care about, everything that is important to me crumbles and turns to dust.

Still, I cannot bear the idea of being alone. I cannot bear the knowledge that what I have done has chased away Rem forever.

After what Knives did, I still made the decision to stay with him. It was easier to follow his lead than to try to carve out an existence for myself on this arid planet without him. 

I hated him for what he did. I even went so far as to wait until he was asleep one night in order to kill him. I was right on the threshold of committing murder, and then the memory of Rem's words stopped me. I was thankful for her words. Although she may be dead, she was still deep within my heart. That meant that no matter what happened, I would never _really_ be alone. 

Since that day, I have tried to live my life in a way that would make Rem happy. I knew that as long as I lived that way, she would always exist within my heart. That faith brought me some comfort, but still loneliness ached within me.

Then the Insurance Girls entered my life. 

They were the first people to treat me like any other human being even though they knew who I was. They weren't afraid of me and they weren't after the price on my head. Though the idea of being under 24-hour surveillance was more than a little unnerving, it was still refreshing to be in their company. 

In spite of my misgivings, I quickly started to _like_ having them around. Being around them was actually fun. I particularly enjoyed making the short-haired girl go a little crazy. I don't think I've ever laughed as much since I was a child until I started traveling around with them. Having the Insurance Girls around, and later Wolfwood, helped ebb away some of the loneliness that haunted me most of my life.

They made me feel alive again.

However, I knew from the beginning that it was a bad idea to let the Insurance Girls follow me. I knew that just letting them near me invited them into one potentially deadly situation after another... but it was just so nice. It had been years since I had had people around me that I could honestly call my friends. I _liked_ that. I still tried to maintain some distance between them and myself, thinking that somehow, _that_ would protect them... but they are so frustratingly persistent. 

I never thought things would turn out this way. 

My selfishness got them both into situation after situation where their lives were in serious jeopardy. Monev the Gale was the first, but certainly not the last. I watched with dread as the stakes got higher and the people who came looking for me became increasingly deadly. 

Legato had been the worst of all. I was a fool to underestimate him. I fell into his trap completely and allowed him to force my hand, thus resulting in the ugly scar that now shines in the fifth moon. 

I was thankful that the Insurance Girls didn't come looking for me after that incident, though I found that I did miss their company. For two years I hid from myself, from Vash the Stampede. I became a peace-loving man known as Ericks who never held a gun and couldn't possibly be responsible for the destruction blamed on the Humanoid Typhoon. 

It was nice to live like a regular person for a while, but I knew deep down that pretending to be someone else was not going to stop Knives. I was foolish to think so, but then I guess I _am_ a fool. 

When I met up with the Insurance Girls again, I should have sent them home without hesitation. Instead, I embraced the moment for what it was and thought that I could separate myself from them a few days later. 

That was a stupid mistake. I realize now that I was just being selfish. Again. 

I was glad to see them. I was glad to see _her_ and I wanted them to stay. I wanted things to go back to the way they once were. I wanted that little piece of happiness. Because of my selfishness, I almost got Meryl shot in the head by a child with a gun. Later I was forced to watch as they both nearly got beaten to death right in front of me. 

I cannot... _will not_ forgive myself for that. 

She knows what I am. She knows what I can do, what I have done... why does she continue to follow me? Why is she taking care of me? 

Why? I don't deserve it.

At least she seems to have come to her senses now. 

I grind my teeth together and let the sobs wrack my body once more. She has done the right thing. I would eventually destroy her, too. I almost did destroy her, her partner too. 

The memory of them hurting her, the sounds of her cries and the sickening-feel of Legato delighting in it all while urging me to kill him haunts me incessantly. The scene replays in my mind and I am sickened with the realization that if I had to do it all over again, I would make the same decision. 

I would _still_ stop Legato. 

I would _still_ shoot him.

Is that wrong? 

Rem, was I wrong? 

If I didn't shoot him, they would have died. They _all_ would have died. Was I wrong?

What should I have done different? There had to be another way... there is _always_ another way... isn't there? I could have saved them both. I didn't have to kill Legato... did I?

I try desperately to call up my memory of Rem, to gain what little comfort my memory of her will offer me when I hear the door open behind me with a gentle swoosh and then shut with a quiet click. I freeze instantly and feel my heart begin to pound in my chest. 

Why has she come back? 

I guiltily look down at the bowl of soup she made for me that has since spilled onto the floor. I wait for her to chastise me for not eating, for making a mess... but the stillness of the room remains. The silence is becoming overwhelming and I again wonder why she has come back and why she is still standing there. I strain to listen for movement or a whisper of explanation and unwittingly allow myself a moment of selfish hope. 

Quiet footsteps slowly make their way toward me and I feel a tentative hand reach out to touch my shoulder. A whisper of my name and a slight squeeze of her hand bring fresh tears to my eyes and I realize that I have been holding my breath. 

She shouldn't be here like this. I shouldn't be so relieved that she is here. 

_Meryl..._

I feel her slide her hand up to my neck and urge me to turn around towards her and I comply gratefully. I wrap my arms around her waist and sob quietly against her middle. I mumble words of apology, regret and warning as she strokes my head tenderly and whispers words of support, forgiveness and hope.

I feel a water droplet splash against the back of my neck, and then another. I pull away from her just enough to look up into her face. Her eyes are puffy and bloodshot, her cheeks glistening. Locks of her dark hair are sticking to the side of her face in the fresh tear tracks, and she smiles at me.

Beautiful.

I rest my forehead against her once more and drink in as much of the moment as I can before I push her away for the last time. She is in danger As long as she stays around me, she will _always_ be in danger.

She has started to stroke my hair again and I feel myself begin to relax against her. I can't let her stay here, I can't. I suck in a trembling breath and gather myself. "Go home, both of you. It's not safe to be around me, I-"

"Vash-san," she interrupts me sternly, the tone of her voice tender yet demanding no further argument, "this is the only place I want to be."


End file.
